


as the chaos passes by

by StrangerInAStrangeLand



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I love this ship, M/M, Nightmares, quill comforts stephen cause he's a good boyfriend, you can pry quillstrange from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 02:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19053625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangerInAStrangeLand/pseuds/StrangerInAStrangeLand
Summary: After awakening from a nightmare, Stephen plays a game with Quill to stay awake.





	as the chaos passes by

**Author's Note:**

> For the bingo prompt: "Night Terror" 
> 
> i love quillstrange sm you guys 
> 
> i just wanted to write about these two being sweet to each other
> 
> (also, title from the Go! Child song "Tranquil". they're dropping a new album next friday yall go listen to them they're great)

He was in the Dark Dimension. His legs were dragged into the ground. His arms seared with intense pain. Every single orfice of his body was paralyzed except his mouth. But rather than throwing a few Flames of Faltine, or a Shield of Seraphim, he was condemned to repeating one single phrase.   
  
"Dormammu, I've come to bargain."   
  
He was caught in that same accursed dream again.   
  
Ever since he faced off against the Lord of Darkness, he'd been unable to rid his mind of his devilish eyes. At nights, he would find himself wandering aimlessly through the galactic Dark Dimension, with the monster himself looming over him. His body was frozen (sometimes even forcefully restrained), rendering him defenseless. And the only sound he could muster out of his corpse was a line he's heard himself say over and over again.   
  
"Dormammu, I've come to bargain."  
  
He had to regurgitate that line over a thousand times before Dormammu would comply. The line stuck in his head and would reprise itself about one hundred times every so often like a broken record.   
  
_"Dormammu, I've come to bargain!"_  
  
Then the pain would come. Stephen knew he was caught in a dream. A nightmare. A fake universe. An untold fairytale. Yet, he felt the pain. He felt the pain every time. Ever since the battle and the plentiful deaths, his brain clung onto every single tactic and refused to let go. They were all etched in his memory, dooming him to nightmares where he would have to relive them for eternity.   
  
His hands would hurt the most. They would burn everytime he "died", being the only outlet that Stephen had to reality. When it came to the point where it felt like he was holding the sun in his palms, he would finally wake up.  
  
He jolted up in bed, still half-asleep, one hand rising to his quickly beating heart, the other frantically checking the other half of his bed. His heartbeat would start and stop, start and stop, start and stop, still locked in the dream. It took precisely 10 seconds for it to realize it was awake and to properly start beating in a consistent matter. He counted.   
  
His heart soon reverted to its normal rhythm. However, his breaths quickly increased with panic when all he felt was an empty half of a mattress.   
  
_Where is he, where is he, where is he?_  
  
He used to sleep with the Cloak on. The Cloak could always sense when he was having a nightmare and would always wake him up and calm him down after the subsequent panic attack. But then, Stephen began sleeping with Peter Quill. Like,  _sleeping_  sleeping with him. His presence made the nights just a little bit bearable. Unfortunately, though, he couldn't always depend on him to be there when he woke up from a nightmare. 

Sometimes he'd be off exploring the galaxy with his fellow Guardians and Stephen would have to deal with the aftermath alone. But tonight, he was supposed to be here. Tonight he slept at his side, one arm lazily clutching onto his body, cuddling him for comfort. So where the hell could he be now?

Stephen's heart dropped and his hand retreated from the lonely blanket. He brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them as tight as he could for some kind of safety. A sob escaped his lips as he buried his face into his knees. 

He just wanted it all to stop. He wanted the nightmares to stop. He wanted the pain to stop. He wanted the goddamn shaking to stop.

He was a child. He was supposed to be this grandiose Sorcerer Supreme, but he was just a weak, vulnerable child deep down. If only he could be stronger...if only he could be more powerful....

Maybe he wouldn't be crying to himself in a fetal position. 

"Hey, hey...what's wrong?" 

He heard a familiar voice and raised his head. Quill was suddenly at the side of their bed holding a glass of water. Stephen stared at him, eyes still watery, and but said nothing. 

Quill noticed the signs of a nightmare almost immediately. "Can't sleep?"

Stephen remained quiet, still haunted by the fiery head of Dormammu. He managed to nod slowly. 

"Me neither," Quill sighed. He offered him the glass. "Water?"

Stephen shook his head. Quill placed the glass on the nightstand and climbed into bed. 

"Can I ask what kind?" He asked gently, setting a hand on Stephen's shoulder in an effort to calm him. 

Quill didn't understand magic entirely. He's hardly gotten used to the idea of autotune (though Stephen didn't quite understand the use of it either). But he tried to. He's tried to read his books, but couldn't understand the ancient languages for the life of him. 

He didn't know anything about Dormammu or the Dark Dimension. But he asked questions. He listened to Stephen's long explanations about the Time Stone and the bargaining and whatnot. He tried to understand his boyfriend's weird mystic monologues as best as he could.

He may have looked like an idiot, and he may have acted like an idiot, and he may have made Stephen repeat the same shit over and over again. But he was kind. He was compassionate. And it was that compassion that let Stephen know he could trust him with his feelings. That he could open up to him about everything. 

"Just the usual," Stephen responded, voice still shaky. Ugh, he hated sounding broken.  

"Same as always?" Quill replied. "Jeez. It's almost like Groundhog Day." 

He lightly shook Stephen, trying to get him to laugh. But the joke didn't land. Stephen sat despondent, staring off into space, still shaken by the dream. 

Quill had the grand privilege of never meeting Dormammu. But he's sworn more than once to kick his ass if he ever came back ("He won't," Stephen would tell him. "You're welcome.") for traumatizing him and trying to take over Earth. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked.

Stephen shook his head, letting his head fall onto Quill's shoulder.

"No."

He screwed his eyes shut, desperately tired but desperately wanting to stay awake. He couldn't go back to sleep in fear of what his subconscious would do to him next. 

Quill looked over at him sadly and brushed his fingers through his hair. It's been a year since they began dating and he still didn't understand anything about Stephen's nightmares. But all he knew was that Stephen didn't like to be alone after a nightmare. He needed someone, anyone to cling onto.

"Wanna play a game?"

Stephen slightly raised his head from Quill's shoulder and peaked an eyebrow. 

"What kind of game?" He asked, voice slurring with exhaustion. 

"I say one nice thing about you, then you say one nice thing about me," Quill explained. "You can go first, I know there's a lot to choose from."

Stephen rolled his eyes. There was the ego. At least it had improved over the year. Nevertheless, he decided to play along. 

"I like...your taste in music." 

The two smiled, remembering the first official "date". It was at an intergalactic nightclub. All they could remember was that they had a little bit of whiskey, a little bit of wine, and an unforgettable dance to their favorite Whitney song. 

"I think you're...charismatic," Quill replied. "You know, for an old man."

Stephen sighed, but was still smiling. He used to hate his teasig, especially the jokes about his naturally white streaks, but at times like these, he didn't mind a bit of comedy. 

"Quill, I'm only 2 years older than you." 

Quill smirked. "Your turn."

"Okay, fine...I think you have a great personality."

Quill nodded. Stephen felt that it was kinda lame and a bit of a copout, but only a year ago he hated the guardian's childish, immature antics. Now, they were the highlights of his day. Just goes to show how much they've grown. 

"Let's see..." Quill began. "You are extremely clever. And smart. And straightforward. It's incredible how much useless knowledge can fit in that head of yours."

"I...I think you're amazing." 

Quill chuckled. "How specific."

Well, it wasn't like he could think clearly at 1 in the morning. 

"Fine..." Stephen pulled back from him and crossed his arms. "If you want me to delve further...I think you're amazingly annoying."

"Everyone does," Quill replied, wrapping an arm around Stephen's shoulders again.  

Stephen sighed and shook his head. He could never take anything seriously. But he could admit he, himself, could be a little too serious sometimes. Maybe that was just another reason he loved him so much. 

"But..." He continued, looking over at Quill with a tired grin. "I also think it's amazing how we managed to stay together." 

Both of them go silent. Stephen notices that Quill is somewhat shocked -- no, not shocked -- delighted by his response. He knows how much they've grown from reluctant allies, to good friends, and now to boyfriends. 

It was a spectacle, really. If this happened a year ago, Stephen wouldn't have cried so openly. Quill wouldn't try to comfort them. There wouldn't be any kindess, any compassion, any understanding. 

But now? Now, Quill was sliding his hand towards Stephen's and side-eyeing him to see if he noticed. And when Stephen finally looked at him at their hands met, he just smiled and looked into his eyes. 

"...My turn?"

Stephen felt his hand quiver a bit upon contact. He knew Quill understood about the accident, and everytime they held hands, he was also gentle with them. He didn't pull them or grab them whenever he needed attention. He'd just softly intertwine their fingers together and they would be one. 

He locked their fingers together and smiled back at him. 

"Go ahead." 

It only takes a second for Quill to say what he has in mind. 

"I love you."

It hits Stephen like a truck. It's not the first time he's heard him say it, but it almost felt like it. He's lived a whole life of meeting people who betrayed him, mocked him, hurt him...so to hear someone tell him "I love you" and actually mean it felt jarring.

But it's sincere. It's completely, genuinely sincere. And although he's heard it several times before, it makes Stephen's heart skip a beat just hearing it again. 

It was Quill's voice. Quill's hand on his. The light of his life. 

On a whim, he pulled him into a kiss. It was a spur of the moment, but he meant it. Quill was caught off guard, but swiftly melted into it. He cupped his jaw in his hands, and it felt like holding the galaxy. In response, Stephen embraced Quill as tight as he could and didn't let go.

When they pulled apart, he still held on. When he felt Quill return the embrace, he dropped his cheek into his shoulder and gave him one last kiss on the neck. And they sat there, holding each other like they were the only people in the world, cuddling like old school lovers. In a universe where anyone, anything -- even his own psyche -- could attack him at any moment, Stephen was eternally grateful that he was able to meet someone that would hold him in his arms and make him feel safe. 

It was the safest feeling in the world. 

And suddenly, everything was alright. 

"I love you too." 


End file.
